The Saga of Annie Shan
by The Freaky Butt Mate
Summary: Darren and Steve keep diaries... and so does Annie. Now it's her time for adventure. For love, for destiny - for the truth.
1. Zero: The Early Years

**A.N** Hola again! Whee more writing for Freaky. Just the usual: 

Disclaimer: I do not own Annie Shan, Steve Leopard, or anyone from the Darren Shan universe. They all belong to the fantabulous Darren Shan himself. Other than Dr. Kiefer Wilhelm, because he's mine and he's so extra special that it ain't funny. Oh, wait, he's not here yet. Oops. Viarmid's mine too, but you'll find out later.

I also don't own Scipio and the other little street urchins from The Thief Lord. Those munchkins all belong to Cornelia Funke. But, yet again, that's another time, another chapter, far, far away…

Oh, and beware:

Small amounts of random swearing, possible adult and drug references, and AU-ness ensue. Be afraid, be very afraid, for I am high on COKE.

----

**Zero: The Early Years**

**----**

Steve is in hospital. Darren's spider bit him, but Darren won't tell anyone. What if Steve dies? Then it's all Darren's fault. But if I tell anyone, Darren will go to jaul gaol jail.

I don't want Darren to go to jail.

----

Wayting is annoying. I don't like wayting. I'm wayting for Steve to wake up.

Will he ever wake up?

----

He's awake! The doctors don't know why though. They said he just sat up in the morning, all better. He's going home soon. I can't wayt to see him.

Darren's gone weird though. He looks funny.

What if he's sick too? If he falls asleep, would he wake up too? Or would he sleep forever, like Sleeping Beauty, only he'd be like Sleeping Prince wayting for a beautiful princess to come and kiss him on the lips to wake up.

That'd be funny. He'd lie in a tower all day sleeping while the princess uses her magic to fight her way up to him.

Maybe I could be the Sleeping Beauty, and Steve would be my prince. He would cut away all the thorns with his sharp sword and wake me up just by kissing me.

I'd like that.

wayt wate wait

----

Something happened to Darren, but he's not sleeping. Mum and Dad say he's sleeping, but I know he's not. How can he sleep when he's got a broken neck? I know what happened to him.

Darren died.

No he didn't.

Yes he did.

Darren is dead.

No. No!

He's lying on a table downstairs. I shout at him, scream at him, I tell him to wake up, but he's still sleeping. No, he's dead.

He's dead.

I don't want him to be dead!

I want Darren back!

----

They put him in the ground today. He's gone, gone, gone forever.

Steve didn't go. He's been acting weird again.

I don't want Steve to die too. I couldn't stand that.

If Steve dies, then so will I.

----

Dad's depressed again. That's a new word I learnt from the Internet. I looked it up when I heard a neighbour talking to my mum about it.

Depressed.

Darren died a year ago. Mum cries. Dad locks himself in his study and doesn't come out.

They don't care about what I do. They let me do what I want.

I cried too, a little bit. But then I got over it. My religion teacher says that if you're a good person, you go to Heaven when you die. Darren was a good person, so he went to Heaven. It's supposed to be nice up there, so I'm happy for him.

Why aren't Mum and Dad happy for him too?

Maybe they still miss him. I know I miss him.

----

Steve's gone weird again. He's always reading and going to the library. I hardly ever see him. Maybe if I start playing soccer, I can see him again.

Or maybe, if I start playing soccer They will notice me again.

----

It's cold. Oh so cold.

Their touch is like ice.

They don't feel me.

I still get fed, clothes, given an allowance, yet…

So cold.

----

They're still ignoring me. It's like they've forgotten me.

Well, Mum hasn't. She tries. A little. But she's just too busy. Dad, though, doesn't. He doesn't know I exist anymore. He sits and stares into space, or stares at photos of Darren.

Darren.

Darren.

Always. Darren.

Why can't they see me anymore?!

Why don't they know I'm here?!

Didn't they know I turned eleven today?!

They didn't even say happy birthday.

----

I had an idea.

It was a good idea.

If They want Darren back.

Why don't **_I_** become Darren?

I'll cut my hair.

I'll be good at soccer and geography.

I'll wear boys clothes.

I'll like spiders and horror movies and comics.

Do you think They'll see me?

Do you think They'll love me again?

----

Dermot saw me.

For a second.

He stood up, his eyes filled with light, he almost broke into a smile – but then he saw the difference. He saw past the Darren haircut, past the Darren clothes, past the Darren dirty knees and Darren comic in my hand. And then… he was like a piece of paper.

He crumpled.

He cried.

He yelled at me.

He screamed.

I ran from the room.

That was a week ago.

They haven't talked to me since.

----

Steve didn't like my haircut either. When I saw him, he looked so angry that I got scared. For a second, I thought he was going to jump on me and kill me. I almost ran.

But then he relaxed. Tried to smile and joke about it.

But I know the truth.

He doesn't…..

----

He loves me.

He loves me not.

He loves me.

He loves me not.

That's really stupid. Why do girls say that?

He loves me, he loves me not – pah! Of course he doesn't love me!

Who am I? I'm just the eleven year old kid sister of his dead best friend – why would he like ME, of all people?!

I -

I love him though.

I love him.

I love him not.

No, I love him.

Do They love me?

No.

They love me not.

----

I turned thirteen, no one noticed.

I'm a teenager, yet nobody noticed.

Steve noticed. Ms. Leonard noticed.

Dermot and Angela didn't.

Steve noticed, though.

That's all that matters.

Ms. Leonard gave me a box full of cookies. Childish, but I guess I'm still a child.

He got me a pair of soccer boots. I loved him for that.

Then he told me.

He told me he was leaving. He didn't say where to. He just said something vague about searching for something…

He didn't tell me anything else.

I didn't have the guts to ask him to take me with him, though.

My heart lies broken.

I'm going angsty now.

Shit.

Wow. My first cuss as a teenager.

I feel special.

Flat, but special.

----

Despite everything, soccer's good. I'm my team's best striker and scorer – like Darren. Mr. Dalton – Darren's old favourite teacher – is even thinking of putting me onto the boys' side, because I'm too good for the girls.

I love soccer.

So did Darren.

Why does Darren always have to have something to do with it?!

Someone always asks 'Did your brother teach you before he died…?'! They always relate everything to HIM.

He's been dead for five friggen years, and yet I'm still living under his shadow. I hate it. I HATE it!

GET OUT OF MY LIFE!

----

Vampires.

Vampires.

Vampires.

Steve's been gone for almost a year. He's only rung once – the same day as Darren's bloody death anniversary. Bastard.

Oops, no, that's right. I'm trying to keep happy. Happy. Yes, happy happy, happy like the pixies and fairies in the garden that go _'skippedy-dippedy-dee!'_ as they dance around! Like Homer when he's in Happy Land! Like a teen taking E! Like a Care Bear eating candy!

I'll be happy, oh so happy!

I won't worry at all, I'll just BE HAPPY!

Right, that's it, I'm off the coke. As in the drink, not the drug.

…Bloody school counsellors.

Ms. L's been great. She invites me over all the time and always gives me food. I think she misses having a kid to look after. Or she thinks she failed with her own son, so she wants to make it all up by taking care of someone else's kid. Bleh.

Either way, I get to sleep in Steve's room most nights.

I get to see into his world.

I get to see what he's searching for.

It's hard to believe, really. I actually don't want to believe it, but there's no other explanation. It has to be true. I mean… it explains why HE was acting so weird those couple of days before he died…

Darren is a vampire.

He sacrificed his family just so he could become an evil, blood-lusting monster.

If Steve doesn't kill him first…

I'm going to kill Darren with my own bare hands.

----

Wanting to spit out the jarred thoughts 

_Because there's no other proof of my existence_

_My future that I've grabbed hold is_

_Conflicting between 'dignity' and 'freedom'_

_Wanting to erase the distorted afterimage_

_Because I'll see my limit over there_

_Erase and rewrite_

_The pointless ultra-fantasy_

_Revive_

_The unforgettable sense of being_

_Rewrite_

_The meaningless imagination_

_The driving force that creates you_

_Give it your whole body and soul_

I love that song. Even though I've translated it from Jap into bad English, I love it. Rewrite by Asian Kung-Fu Generation.

I am determined to put my whole body and soul into killing him.

I will kill Darren Shan.

----

**A.N **'Riraito (Rewrite)' by Asian Kung-Fu Generation is the newest theme song for one of the greatest anime ever, Fullmetal Alchemist. If you like J-pop/rock, I suggest you download it. The song, not the anime – the show's some 51 episodes long, and it finished airing in Japan a few weeks ago. Poopie.


	2. Introduction: Ana's Song

Introduction: Ana's Song (Open Fire) 

**----**

Looking back, I see how naïve I was. How stupid, how ignorant, just how friggen screwed I was in the head.

It's all my parents' fault. But wait… If I do that, then I have to go back to it being Darren's fault, and then I go back to the Cirque, and then before that, to that bloody flyer…

No. It was my fault. My fault for being such a stupid, stupid little girl.

Look where it's left me now.

I hate it when people blame everything else when, in reality, it's _their _fault, not the fault of others. Like if a child is abused when they're young, and grows up to become a murderer, some random intellectual comes up and says 'We should blame society'. If they hadn't noticed, they _are_ part of society – even the kid. So are they just being contradictory? Or am I being contradictory?

And yet… and yet…

If only Steve hadn't left. If only I hadn't gone to his place. If only I hadn't found out the truth. If only Dermot and Angela hadn't died. If only Steve hadn't come back. If only Steve and I had listened to what Perri told us to do. If only we hadn't followed her.

If, if, if, only, only, only, there's too many of them!

No. It was me, it was my fault, it was just plain stupid dumb luck, or destiny, or fate, or coincidence, or whatever you want to call it. Either way, I can't deny what happened.

I can't take it back, either.

I wish I could. Oh, how I wish I could.

Star light, star bright, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish, I wish tonight…

It doesn't work. No matter how hard I try, that little star up there that twinkles down on me doesn't grant my wish. Maybe I'm asking the wrong star.

Damn. Stupid Sirius. He had always been my favourite Harry Potter character and he let me down there. He's not even reliable as a star.

Damn you Sirius. Bloody dog star.

There's no going back, no matter how hard I try. There are times I doubt what I swore to do. There are times I want to kill myself, before something happens.

Before what Destiny said was to come.

But like I said, I'm stuck. Can't go back, can only go forward. Forever forward.

Maybe I could change my path. Screw Mr. Tiny. I remember, only a few months ago, though it feels like years, swearing that I would always be determined. I'm determined now. I won't let anyone else control me.

It's my life – my _destiny_, thanks very much Tiny – and I will do with it as I please.

----

**A.N **

FunkyDonkey – Hehehe! FMA and AKFG rule! And noo, I'm not half-japanese, though I am half filo. Hehe!

Retlor – Thankyou!

Itchan – I haven't read the last book yet, but I really want to! DAMN YOU AUSSIE PUBLISHERS!

Thankyou all!

And this is the last chapter that is going to appear for a while… certain events have to occur in Steve's diary before this one can continue… ehheehehe….

And now…

Previews!

**Next Chapter:**

**One: Forests**

"Who are you?" I breathed, backing into the tree behind me. He cracked a smile, a horrible, evil little smile.

"Oh, that doesn't matter at the moment," he said, stepping forward as well. He flipped the lid of his little watch shut and slipped it back into his pocket. "What is important, however…" He reached forward, touching my stomach. My shirt, ripped and torn, was thin, so I could feel his dry, cold hand. I felt sick.

His smile spread.

"Ah yes. Just as I expected."

I shuddered, pressing myself further against the tree. Before I could stop him, he reached forward and grabbed my arm roughly to look at my hand. I quickly yanked it back, but he had seen it. He knew.

"Who are you?!" I asked again. His evil smile spread once more.

"Some call me a monster. I, however, prefer Mr. Tiny. Mr. Desmond Tiny."


	3. One: Forests

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* * *

**

**One: Forests**

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* * *

**

I ran.

As hard and as fast as my legs would carry me.

I could hear them behind me, whopping, crashing, screaming – or was that my heart, racing away in my chest, my mind, screaming away in my head?

I didn't know.

All I knew was that –

I ran.

I had no idea where I was running, or what I was running in – something sloshed around my feet, heavy and sickening, things crunched and wriggled beneath me, something hairy brushed passed my arm, but I paid no attention to anything. All I wanted to do was run.

Away.

Away.

Away from the death.

As far away as possible.

I slipped. Fell into grimy, dirty water.

Stand back up and continue sprinting.

Chest burning.

Lungs heaving.

Head whirling.

Blood pumping.

Fear screeching.

Where was I going? Where was I going?

Darkness.

_Slosh, slosh…_

I ran.

Not turning around, never looking back – I had to get away from the screaming demons behind me. I had to… I had to –

Light.

Where?

Above!

Run.

Climb the stairs – push the cover out of the way and –

Freedom.

Air.

Stumble away.

Look around.

Where am I?

Nowhere.

Run.

_Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run…_

I ran.

_Don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun…_

Away from the shattered lights, away from the abandoned streets.

To the trees.

The trees.

The forest.

Safety.

Run.

Roots.

Trees.

Sticks.

Branches reaching out to grab me.

They tear at me.

Rip my clothing.

It was them all over again.

It was happening again.

Scream.

Run.

Hide.

Where!

_HIDE._

Head spinning now.

Can't see.

Can't walk straight.

Why is everything going white?

_(perri?)_

Why can't I see?

Fading now…

Am I falling?

_(steve?)_

Sink to the ground.

Dizzy. Oh so dizzy.

Am I flying?

_(…darren…?)_

Black.

Cool, sweet, darkness.

* * *

I didn't know where I was. Or when it was. 

Sometimes, I even began to doubt _who_ I was.

I would wonder aimlessly, lost in the deep, cold forests of Germany, my growling stomach my only companion in the dark world. I just walked, with no idea in what direction I was heading in –

I just followed my feet.

Pretty strange, isn't it? Usually, a person is the one who controls their feet. I, however, did exactly as my feet told me, going wherever they wanted to go.

What can I say? I'd always been a sheep.

Baa.

As I walked through those long, lonely days, I thought. I thought of the past. Of the people I had met and loved and lost. Perri and Darren, for one. Even though I had known Perri for only a few weeks, she became a huge part of my life. She was beautiful, brilliant, bubbly, strong – everything I had wanted to be. Yet now she was gone. Killed by the person she hated so much.

And Steve had done nothing to save her.

Meanwhile, Darren… Darren. I missed him. As much as I… _hated_ him… for ruining my life… I still missed him. With every bit of my heart. I knew he was out there, somewhere – was he thinking of me? Did he miss me as much as I missed him?

Needless to say, I got very lonely.

Lonely enough to create my own imaginary friend.

Meet Adrian. Watch out, he bites.

Down, boy.

I don't know how long I wandered for. It couldn't have been more than a few days – though, truthfully, it felt like the longest few days I had ever lived.

However, on what I think was the sixth morning, I awoke, feeling… different. Sickly. Like I was going to –

Vomit.

I rolled over and emptied my already empty stomach.

Needless to say, I knew I wasn't going to have a very good day.

* * *

I had just negotiated my way over a large fallen tree trunk when He appeared. I slipped over the tree, arguing with Adrian out loud – it was about something really philosophical, too. 

Why did the chicken cross the road?

I was winning, of course.

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know," the voice said from behind me. I whirled around, and in the process, got my legs tangled up. I ended up on the ground in a crumpled heap, while the voice continued on. "Or is it the second sign?"

I jumped to my feet, pushing my disheveled hair from my eyes to glare at the person who had startled me. He was a small man, rotund and cheerful-looking in a chubby favourite uncle sort of way, wearing a green suit and yellow wellies. He held an oddly shaped watch in one hand, one of those old pocket watches, and was smiling at me in an almost eerie way. Despite his cute appearance, there was something wrong about him. Something off. Something about that smile…

"Who are you?" I breathed, backing into the tree behind me. Something subtle happened to that smile of his. It was no longer just _eerie…_ it was worse. A horrible, evil little smile.

"Oh, that doesn't matter at the moment," he said, stepping forward as well. He flipped the lid of his little watch shut and slipped it back into his pocket. "What is important, however…" He reached forward, touching my stomach. My shirt, ripped and torn, was thin, so I could feel his dry, cold hand. I felt sick.

His smile spread.

"Ah yes. Just as I expected."

I shuddered, pressing myself further against the tree. Before I could stop him, he reached forward and grabbed my arm roughly to look at my hand. I quickly yanked it back, but he had seen it. He knew. Even though I had covered them as best I could with strips of fabric, he could still see them, he knew, he knew, he knew…

"Who are you!" I asked again. His evil smile spread once more.

"Some call me a monster. I, however, prefer Mr. Tiny. Mr. Desmond Tiny."

I couldn't help but shiver.

"What do you want?" I whispered. He smiled.

"To feed you."

"Wha ?"

"Think quick!"

He threw something at me, and instinctively, I caught it. Blinking, I looked down into my hands to see an almost unfamiliar object. It took me a while to realize what it was.

_An apple._

My stomach growled, and before I gave myself a chance to think, I bit into it savagely. It was only as I look up to see Mr. Tiny's sickly little smile did a thought occur to me.

"You've… poisoned it," I said, pulling the green apple away, yet at the same time unwilling to drop it. When you hadn't eaten food other than tiny berries for over seven days, you tend to grow attached to anything edible that you have in your hands.

Tiny chuckled. Once more, I shivered.

"Why ever would I poison it?" He asked. Then, reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a bag that looked too big to fit there, almost like Mary Poppins. He threw it towards me, and fumbling with my apple, I caught it with one hand. I glared at him. "Open it."

Still glaring, I gripped the apple with my teeth and ripped the bag open. Inside were two bottles, a loaf of bread and a block of cheese. Rooting around further I found a small but serviceable knife.

"Why are you giving me these?" I asked him suspiciously, the apple held in my hand now. He had been inspecting something on a nearby tree while I had searched the bag, and now stepped back, something clamped between two fingers. That horrible smile was still plastered to his face.

"Well, I can't let you die of starvation, can I?" Mr. Tiny said, sniffing the thing he held. With a dawning revulsion, I realized it was a bug of some sort. He chuckled to himself, studying the bug closely. "Can't let you ruin my plans that way."

"Your plans?"

As an answer, he put the bug into his mouth, and chewed.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" I asked, taking a step towards him. Mr. Tiny shrugged.

"I can't tell you yet," he said, swallowing his meal. "That would ruin the surprise. By the way, I suggest you have a drink. Have the black bottle first."

Eying him suspiciously, I reached into the bag and pulled out the black bottle. The drink felt heavy as it sloshed around its container. Delicately, I cracked it open, and sniffed it.

And reeled in horror as a hot, coppery tang hit my nose.

I threw the bottle to the ground.

Heavy, crimson liquid oozed from the bottle, immediately soaking into the soil.

Mr. Tiny tutted softly.

"Now, that was very ungrateful of you," he said softly, menacingly.

"I am not going to drink blood," I replied. He smiled again.

"Ah, but my dear, you will have to one day. You are a vampaneze now – a creature of the night. You _survive_ on blood – there's no escaping it," he said. I leaned back onto the tree again, shaking my head slowly.

"No. _No_. I refuse. What then?"

"Then you will die," he told me evenly. He smirked slightly, as if a pleasant thought occurred to him. "But then, there's always the chance that you will go crazy and kill someone first."

"I won't. I won't. I'm not evil. I don't kill," I said softly.

"But you will," he smiled. "You will kill. It's your… _destiny."_

I glared at him.

"What if I don't want my destiny?"

"You can't escape Destiny."

"Yes I can."

Des Tiny smirked, then paused, pulling out his odd little watch and flipping it open.

"Hmm. Well, then. Good luck on trying to change your destiny, my dear – you're going to need it," he said, slipping his watch back into his pocket. "If you follow the sun for the next two days, you will find your way out of this forest."

He stepped back lightly, that evil little smile still on his face.

"Don't get yourself killed, Annie Shan," he said. "I will be very disappointed if you do."

"Why?" I growled.

"Because."

Evil grin.

"You are holding something that can destroy the world."

Then he disappeared into the shadows of the trees. When I raced forward to follow him –

He was gone.

Leaving me alone, once more.

The little voice of Adrian mocked me in the back of my mind.

I felt like vomiting again.

* * *

**A.N** Finally! It took me a while to update – I'm sorry! I forgot about my self-promise to update something at least weekly – one chapter of this or Steve's, and a drabble. Every week. I'll try. I've got a drabble in the process of being written, and another idea for next week's… Hehe. So fun. 

**Delico**Sirius is my favourite character too! Then that evil bleach haired bitch did that to him… How could she write off our favourite character! HOW COULD SHE! EVIL WOMAN! EVIL! Hehe, and I'm glad you like my Annie – I've grown quite attached to her myself. She's so much cooler than the books' Annie. That take, Mr. O'Shaughnessy!

And some random pimpage: If you are a dirty-minded child like myself, then go to my profile, and look for a list of three links. The second one is called 'The Darren Shan Dirt Forum'. Go there! AND ALLOW IT TO THRIVE! MWUAHAHAHA!

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**Next Chapter:**

**Two: One Second of Insanity**

_It had me. _

_The craze._

_I couldn't stop myself._

_A misty veil of thick velvety crimson had encompassed me._

_Enveloped me._

_Sinking itself into the crevices of my mind._

_Completely controlling me._

_I couldn't stop._

_The man fell down._

_Scrambled._

_Tried to get away._

_But I didn't let him._

_He was mine._

_And I was hungry._

_Oh… so… _

Hungry.


	4. Two: One Second of Insanity

- -

**Two: One Second of Insanity**

**- - - -**

Tiny's advice proved to be true. I did as he told me, following the direction of the sun for two days – and indeed, I found my way out of the wilderness, and back in civilization. The town I came across was a small one, discreet, with not many travelers passing through – though it did own one small motor inn. After a further, more thorough search of the bag given to me by Tiny, I found some money, which bought me a room, some food, and some warmer clothes.

But shelter, warmth, sustenance – they could only go so far. There was something else I needed – something I didn't want to want. But I couldn't help it. Everywhere I turned, everywhere I looked, I could see it, _smell_ it.

Blood.

I stayed in this little town for quite some time, recuperating and getting my thoughts together. It was not the best of ideas, however.

Because of what I was.

Because of what I needed.

I would watch, unwillingly, peoples' veins pumping blood away under their skin. I would hang around the small butcher's, watching as they carved their meat. There was even one time when I saw a little boy fall over and cut his knee – it took all my will power to turn around and walk away.

With every passing hour, the craving for blood within me swelled.

I fought against it as hard as I could. I tried to take my mind off it by occupying myself with other things: some exercises Perri had taught me, by searching for a job, eating, anything. But not matter what I did, it was always there, in the pit of my stomach, bubbling away.

Soon, I began to feel the toll it was taking on my body.

When I was first blooded, I had felt… different. Stronger, maybe, swifter, my senses more highly attuned. But now, only three weeks later, I was beginning to feel weaker than I had ever felt before. I would feel so groggy – at times I would lay in bed all day, and at other times I had to make sure I walked near something stable in case I fainted.

And all the time, that craving boiled within me.

But finally, my control, my determination and will power failed me.

I had been out walking after dark, hoping the nighttime air would help clear my head.

He stumbled out of a pub.

Turned around and swore in German.

I stopped as a smell hit my nose.

Strong.

Heavy.

A coppery metallic smell…

The man turned around.

There was a jagged cut on his arm – a bar brawl, broken bottle probably…

And then -

It had me.

The craze.

I couldn't stop myself.

A misty veil of thick velvety crimson had encompassed me.

Enveloped me.

Sinking itself into the crevices of my mind.

Completely controlling me.

I couldn't stop.

The man fell down.

Scrambled.

Tried to get away.

But I didn't let him.

He was mine.

And I was hungry.

Oh… so…

_Hungry._

He went to scream, but my hand lashed out, covered his mouth, muffled his cry. With a strength I had thought deserted me, I dragged him into the darkness, and then –

And then –

I could feel my body moving, but at the same time, I _couldn't_. It wasn't me controlling me, but someone else, some_thing_ else, the monster within. I watched in horror as the thing within wrapped Its hands around the man's neck, tightening in a ferocious grip. The man's eyes were wide, wider than tennis balls.

The thing within leaned forward. Its hands – Its claws – were digging into the man's neck now, making rivulets of blood swell and run.

Lick. Taste it.

The taste drove It further.

The man let out a weak cry.

Look up sharply and –

See my reflection in his eyes.

It was my reflection that stopped me. In his wide, blood-shot eyes, I saw a monster, an ugly, horrible thing, face twisted in a horrible leer. But worst of all were the eyes – the monster's eyes.

They were mine.

I reeled back in horror, the red veil retreating. The man lay on the ground, the shock entering his system.

I was equally as shocked – staring from him, to my hands, and back at him.

I let out a small, pathetic cry.

And then I turned and ran.

I ran as far as I could, running, stumbling, crying, pushing passed people and against walls, anything, trying to run away from the monster within me. But I couldn't run far enough. The monster ran along with me.

It ran along _inside_ me.

I don't know how long I ran for – it would have been only a few minutes – but suddenly the faintness was back. I knew my feet were touching the ground, yet at the same time, I felt like I was flying, floating, hovering, drifting. The giddiness overwhelmed me – my sprint turning to a jog, then a walk.

_so_

I came to an absolute halt, swaying on my feet.

_tired…_

The world.

_Why does the world spin so…?_

Fall down.

There it was.

That darkness again.

Threatening to take over me.

But before it does –

Footsteps.

A voice.

A face – fading in and out. Gentle grey eyes behind frameless glasses, brown hair, a bit of shadow along the jawline, face filled with concern…

And his voice – warming, and gentle, and oh so deep…

_"Sind Sie gut fühlend?"_ He was saying… fading in and out… like that old radio we once had that wouldn't work…

"_Nein." _I replied.

And then I was gone.

- -

**A.N** That was so baaad… -dies- I'm sorry it's so crappy, but I had the urge to write, so write I did… bleh… ebil school… it's killing my already mediocre abilities. Sigh. The world is an evil place.

curls up into a little ball and cries-

(Don't mind me, I'm in a depressed state at the moment… have no real idea why though… I need more slash in my life… sniffsniff.)

But in any case… Yay! Kiefer finally arrived! –glomps her lovable little German guy-

- -

**Next Chapter:**

**Three: White Song**

_"Um… Ich bin Auslander… und… sprechren nicht gut Deutches?" I tried tentatively, trying to remember what I had learned at school. _

_That nice smile of his spread._

_"Ah. Then, shall I try English?" He asked. It sounded like he was fumbling too. I nodded vigorously, but stopped when my head began spinning. His smile softened. "Do not move too quickly. You are still… how do I say… weak?" He offered another smile. _

_"Where am I…?" I asked softly._

_"In my home."_

_"And… who are you?"_

_"Oh! How - rude? - of me! I am Doktor Kiefer Wilhelm – that is, I saw you…what is the word… collapse? Ja, ja, collapse, and I brought you here."_

_His smile was almost mesmerizing._


End file.
